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Warfield, Catherine A.

"Miriam Monfort A Novel"

And now let us
think what will be best for you to do. I wish to spare your feelings as
much as possible, and I will say all I can with truth to exonerate you
in your father's eyes. Go to Copenhagen, as you proposed at one time to
do, and leave the rest to me. That will be best, I think."
"To Copenhagen!" he exclaimed. "You issue thus coldly your edict of
banishment! Are you implacable then, Miriam?" and the cold dew stood in
beads on his now pallid brow as he rose before me. He had not fully
realized his situation until now.
"'Implacable' is scarcely the word for this occasion, Claude. It implies
anger or hatred, it seems to me. Now, I feel neither of these--only the
truest sympathy."
"Your anger, your hatred, were far more welcome, Miriam--more natural
under the circumstances. This cool philosophy in one so young is
monstrous! Mock me no longer with your calm compassion--it maddens
me--it sinks me below contempt!"
He spoke gloomily, angrily, pushing away the clustering hair from his
brow in the way peculiar to him when excited, as he proceeded, stamping
slightly with his foot on the marble hearthstone in his impotent way. I
could but smile!
"I will not offend you further, Claude," I said, mildly. "Receive your
ring;" and I gave him back the diamond cross on a black enamel ground
set on its circle of gold that he had placed upon my finger as a pledge
of our betrothal; an ominous one, surely--for another cross was now to
be borne.


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